Heart Beats Like a Bullet
by futurerustfuture-dust
Summary: Natasha gets called back to Russia after the death of her adoptive father, though who she meets on the plane is far more important, and life-altering, than she could've imagined. WIP. Alternate Universe Collections
1. 1(1)

Natasha had, admittedly, known Ivan had been sick for awhile but hadn't really been able to bring herself to care more than the occasional call to Russia once a week warranted just to check on how he was doing. Anyway, she reminded herself for the hundredth time, Alexei and Vanko were taking care of Ivan, at least they should have been. Were supposed to. They'd stayed in Russia after all to take over his company, and though it was in their best interest if he ended up dying they'd come to care for him as if he were all of their fathers. He'd raised them after all, though he'd always taken more interest in the boys than he ever had Nat. It wasn't uncommon she supposed, not the way he'd been raised, and she was doing her best not to think too poorly of the man now that he'd passed. She hadn't seen him since she'd left seven years ago, and yet it was back to Russia she had to go, Ivan's passing having happened several weeks ago. It figured, she thought, that it and the funeral happened to coincide with the last few meetings of her Doctorate program, and though she's cleared her absence with the head of her program she still felt nervous about leaving in the middle, having packed her thesis to edit for what felt like the thousandth time on the flight. At least it would give her something to do in the twenty or so hours she had until her flight landed in Moscow.

Her mind flitted back to the present as the cab came to a slow stop at the airport entrance, forcing herself back into the moment as she thrust the fare for the cab plus five extra for his tip, before stepping out . She was nearly running late as it was, only half an hour before the flight was supposed to take off, thankful to be the only one in line, the woman behind the desk smiling brightly as Nat handed over her luggage and her confirmation information. Thank God no one seemed to be flying out of Laguardia in the middle of October at five in the morning, or at least if they were they were already on the plane. She bit back a curse as she watched the woman tap away at the computer in front of her, Nat's smile permanently frozen on her face. She wasn't even back in Russia and already the mask was in place.

"Running a little late?" The woman asked politely, still smiling as she looked up from her computer to heft Nat's luggage onto the conveyer belt behind her, slipping the luggage slip onto the handle, her expression a little too cheery for Nat's taste.

Nat smiled anyway. "Yeah. Traffic. Hard to believe so early in the morning."

"Welcome to New York," the woman laughed before looking over the flight information with a quiet hum of approval. Without another word to Nat she pulled the phone beside her computer up and tapped at the number pad there. Nat's stomach dropped. What on earth could be wrong with it now? She looked down at her hands as the woman murmured into the receiver, then handed Nat her ticket soon after. "Don't worry-they're holding the plane for you," she said with a wink. "Have a good flight."

Stomach easing, Nat flashed her a wider smile and thanked her before heading off. Well, at least that was a pleasant surprise. Hopefully it was a sign her damn flight wouldn't suck so much. She hated flying enough as it was.

Positivity and optimism, though, had never been her strong suit. Soon after she skirted down the halls towards the security checkpoint-red jacket off, shoes off, carry on checked, phone, laptop, extra copy of her thesis for her to edit on the flight all made it through the scanner no problem. The two security guards smiled as she passed through, though Nat wasn't sure she really liked the way the guards looked down her shirt when she bent to slip her shoes back on. Gross.

Trying to ignore it-'Think positively for once, Romanov.'-she texted Steve quickly to let her know she made it safely there and through security, having just enough time to see his response.

'Awesome. Be safe please, see you soon.'

Bless her roommate.

She had ten minutes to spare as she handed her ticket to the woman at the ticket desk, this one also all grins despite it being an ungodly hour in the morning. Was it just Nat's lucky day that she seemed to get the nice people? Or was there something stuck in her teeth? As the brunette woman checked over the validity of the document Nat swirled her tongue over her teeth, not feeling anything, barely able to stop herself from reaching up to make sure her hair wasn't standing straight up or something. That would be awkward.

"Alright," the woman said finally, marking something down on the ticket. "You'll be in first class, that's gonna be third row-."

"Wait, what?" Nat asked, brow pulled together. What was she talking about? "That can't be-I'm in regular, coach." She said, trying to peek at the ticket. Shit, did she pay extra for it? She wasn't going to get that much back from Ivan's will, she was positive. Not enough to warrant such an expensive trip.

"There was a family who needed your seat for their kid and you never showed up so they bumped it up to first class rather than displace them." There was a pause. "Is that okay?" The woman's eyebrows rose, as though daring Nat to say otherwise, that she was really going to argue at a free bump up to first class on such a long flight. Cowed, Nat shook her head.

"Not a problem at all-that's amazing, actually. Thank you."

Business returned to normal as the woman's smile reappeared on her face and handed Nat the ticket, assuring her that the stewardess would help her find her seat. Nat thanked the woman and headed through the connecting tunnel, the kind eyed woman at the end of it taking a quick peek at the seating arrangement before pointing Nat on her way.

"Third row from the back, where the gentleman in the suit is? The window seat."

That didn't help Nat much, considering it was first class and most of the other guests were businessmen or women, most of which were dressed in much more comfortable versions of business casual. But third from the back she couldn't really mess up, and she was grateful to see that she wasn't the only one who would be putting her things away, the others around her fidgeting with what they would pull from their carry ons as well. All she had to do was pull out her thesis and-.

'Oh, shit.'

She caught sight of the man who she'd be sitting next to and felt her feet stop right where they were, smack dab in the middle of the aisle, as he stared back up at her. To say he was gorgeous was pulling it lightly, she thought, swallowing hard as he stood and smiled, which was just the icing on the damn good looking cake that embodied her seating partner. How the hell was she supposed to get anything done sitting next to him?

"Hey, need a hand with that?" He asked, holding out a hand.

Forcing herself to breathe evenly she smiled and nodded, perhaps a little quicker than she shouldn't. "Yeah, sure thing. Just lemme grab some work," she murmured, grateful her fingers weren't shaking as unzipped the top of it, snagged her portfolio and a red pen, and zipped it back up. His long fingers encircled the handle, stowing it within the luggage rack above their heads with ease, along with her coat, before allowing her to take her seat and following her.

"I wasn't sure if I'd get an extra seat to myself or not," he teased, green eyes bright as he pushed a strand of black hair out of his face, and Nat felt her face heat up a little.

"I'm usually a lot more on time than I was today," she admitted with a laugh at her own expense, pulling her belt over her stomach before sneaking another look over at him through her lashes. He'd taken the sky mall magazine from the back pocket of the seat in front of him, flipping through it from halfway, where she'd likely interrupted him before, smirking as he stared at the ridiculous things for sale. She couldn't blame him, peering over at what had seemed to catch his eye. A tree-face, complete with incredibly creepy eyes and smile, that was somehow being turned so that she could better look at it.

Horrified, she looked up to see him staring at her, a smirk playing on his lips. "Want to look?"

"No, wow. I'm sorry that was really rude," she murmured, turning back to her thesis. "I mean, thank you. I didn't mean to look over your shoulder."

So much for her good day.

He laughed, though, and the noise was soft, more of a breathy chuckle than anything else, and closed the magazine, staring at the front of it, where a family of four was advertising a series of snuggies in horrendous colors. "I think they got their capes on backwards," he teased, shifting the page so she could see it better.

She smiled in spite of herself. "Can't imagine why," she said. "Though I am partial to that one," she said, pointing out the bright pink cameo. "Think it'd go great with my hair. Don't you?"

He reached one of his long-fingered hands out to touch her hair gently, and she actually felt her breath catch for half a second. That was awfully familiar of him, though he didn't seem to think anything differently about it as he felt her soft red curls.

"It would certainly cause a stir," he said, winking, before releasing her hair. She swallowed the squeak that wanted to burst through her lips, forcing herself to calm down. Flirting was nothing she wasn't familiar with. Hell, she was damn good at it when she could slip herself into the right mindset, and she was even better and dishing it back when it was given to her. She'd had her fair share of relationships, flings, and one-night stands, after all. She forced herself to relax, shoulders loosening as she smiled over at him.

"What other colors do they come in?" She asked, leaning over to brush her wrist against his as her hand took the front cover from his hand-and damn, did he have big hands-to flip it open and find the assortment of fabrics and styles available. "Oh, so many."

"It almost begs credulity," he teased, eyes flickering to catch hers.

"Hey, you can trust a sky mall," she said, face going serious as she stared back at him, pulling the magazine closer and pressing it against her chest. "This is my life. I swear by this."

They had half a second between them before he cracked up first, snickering as she dissolved into quiet laughter.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, holding her sides tight as she tried not to irritate the people in front of them, who were already casting the pair less than pleased expressions, the two men looking as though they were on a sales call for Brooks Brothers. Nice suits, but too bad their attitudes couldn't match.

"No need to be sorry for anything . . ." He trailed off, obviously waiting for her name.

She stuck her hand out. No harm, right? It wasn't as though she'd ever see him again, though she might end up wishing it. Who knew? "Natasha Romanov."

"Ah, small wonder you're going to Russia then," he smiled as he took her hand in his and pressed his lips to the back of it, showcasing a broad smile and a full set of perfect, white teeth. "Loki Laufeyson."

This time Natasha managed to keep the flush from settling on her cheeks, her own expression turning wry. "I bet that works on all the ladies, doesn't it?" She asked when she pulled her hand back. He gave a shrug of his shoulders and an endearing laugh at his own expense.

"It certainly has its merits. You are not so easily wooed, I see." He teased, settling back into his seat and giving her a quick once over, his eyes fixing on the thesis on her lap before finding her face again. "Giving a conference?"

"No. Just working on it. Trying to get my doctorate." She winced. It was a lot of work, but it would be worth it in the end.

"Oh? In?"

"Business," she smiled. "And Law."

"Oh. Well, remind me to never get on your bad side. The last thing I need is someone who is far more well versed in the knowledge of the law angry at me," he teased, feigning fear before winking.

She laughed and shook her head. "Oh don't worry, I'm more interested in the way that the law interacts with business. I'm not so petty as to sue you for looking at me the wrong way," she said, her turn to wink. Let him draw what he would from that. For the briefest of moments he looked surprised at her boldness, but a soft laugh filtered from his lips moments later, as if it couldn't be contained. It was infectious, and once more she was laughing with him.

"So, Loki," she started once they calmed down and things seemed to be settling in for the long haul. Great. She needed something to take her mind off of it, popping a piece of gum into her mouth to help with the pressure changes and offering him one. When he declined, she pressed on. "What brings you to Russia? If you don't mind that I ask." She did her best to relax, though the hand nearest the window started tapping furiously on the arm rest. It was just a flight, with a quick stop in Germany to refuel, then the rest of the way to Russia. "Unless you're getting off in Germany?"

"No, I'm for Russia. I-."

He was cut off by the stewardess going through the motions of how important the seat belt was, how to use the oxygen masks, where the informational card was and where the emergency exits were located. When they'd finished Nat caught the eyes of the stewardess, her stomach already knotting up as the woman stepped closer, curious. It wasn't going to get any easier from here, so she might as well indulge herself. From her pocket she fished out her wallet and offered up her credit card.

"Can I get a few of your travel sizes of vodka, please?"

"Any juice-?"

"Nope. No, thank you. Just straight," she gave the woman a tight, apologetic smile, already able to feel the plane start to move. God, she needed it soon. The woman smiled and assured her she'd grab them for her quickly, before Loki looked over at her. She hated the way he looked concerned, her pride flaring a little. She couldn't help it if she hated flying.

"You don't have to impress me by drinking it straight, you know," he teased, playing it off cooly with the smallest of winks. Nat felt at least one of the knots in her stomach release, though she couldn't understand why she was looking for his approval. She didn't need it, never had needed or wanted a man's approval, but there was something about Loki that . . . well she couldn't put her finger on it. She was just glad for his respect.

"Don't worry, this isn't for your benefit," she said, forcing her voice to even out. "It'll just work better without having to worry about getting too sick from all the sugar."

"Admirable. Normally people would use the sugar to their advantage to get drunk quicker."

"I just need to be pleasantly buzzed-thank you," she smiled to the woman, accepting the few single serving bottles from the kind stewardess, who assured them that she'd be back once the flight had leveled out. Nat just dipped her head in understanding, already screwing off the small lid from the bottle of Skyy and guzzling it without so much as pulling a face. She was a seasoned veteran at taking vodka shots, not only from having grown up in Russia but also having gone through college with Clint Barton. He was no lightweight. The two bottles of vodka digested, Nat forced herself to breathe deep, closing her eyes and squeezing them hard together, trying not to focus on all the literature she'd read about how not all flights were safe to go-.

"What's your thesis on?"

Loki's voice was soft in her ear, the heat of his breath warming her cheeks as she opened her eyes with a soft gasp, skin flushing in her surprise and lack of concentration at keeping it all covered up.

"On the-ah, dangers of big business pushing into smaller countries. How it doesn't give them as much of an opportunity to thrive in a smaller community where there is only a few options. If you put a chain store in a country where there was already a mom and pop store, so to speak, well the chain can afford-." She cut out, biting the inside of her cheek as the plane hit a bump.

"Can afford to undersell while the home owned business goes without." Loki completed without skipping a beat.

"Ex-ah-actly," she said, not proud of the way that her words caught. God, she hated this. Hated it hated it hated it.

"What do you propose instead?" Loki asked, taking her hand in his and letting her squeeze it. She was grateful, though sure that he'd regret it once he found out that she wasn't exactly muscle-less.

"Well I suggested that the chain make a deal with the smaller companies. Not necessarily a merger, but a partnership. It's not as though they can't afford to provide the goods for a cheaper price, and by allowing them to sell the products at such a low price saves people enough money, stimulates their economy, and then allows the smaller store to make money for themselves as well as their backers. They just need to stop being so greedy-." She was cut off again by another bump, but it seemed to be the last one as the plane rose for another couple minutes before leveling out. Loki's thumb worked soothingly over her soft skin, rubbing the back of her hand as he prompted her to keep going on about the markets, what would be expected in a situation like that, what sort of obstacles might get in the way. He even seemed to know enough that he could add in his own thoughts about the arrangement.

Color Natasha impressed.

"Were you a business major?" She asked, smiling thankfully at him as she felt the liquor heating her veins and her fear slipping away with every soft swipe of his thumb over the back of her hand. He gave a muffled laugh and shook his head.

"No, but my adopted father ran his own business and I picked up a few things from him training my elder brother. I was never intended to run a business."

There was the softest edge of bitterness that thrummed beneath his voice, and her expression softened. Her hand, which had gone lax in his, tightened.

"Hey, same here. My adopted father had no use for daughters, and the only reason I was even allowed to come here was because I managed to raise enough money to, basically, run away." Why was she saying this? How was it that she felt so comfortable beside him when it had taken years for Barton, of all people, to get the truth out of her? He'd been the first person that she'd really trusted, and even then it had been slow going. She dismissed the liquor as the deciding factor, able to hold it well enough to keep her secrets in every other time, though as she watched the slight lines in Loki's face tense a little, his eyes bright as they took her in as though he was just seeing her for the first time, she thought of how she might not see him again. It made it easier, she supposed, knowing that he wouldn't be able to ever hold this against her, that after this very long flight his knowledge wouldn't have any sort of repercussion on her. Who would he tell that she would know, anyway, if they hadn't met until then? New York was a big state, Russia an even bigger country. The odds of him knowing anyone she did were astronomical.

The realization hit her hard in the gut as she looked him over. Maybe the flight wouldn't be so bad after all.

As promised, the stewardess came around with complimentary drinks for them, and Loki ordered a gin and tonic while Nat just requested another bottle of vodka smiling at the woman and thanking her profusely. The woman just nodded knowingly, winking, before moving on to the next passengers.

"So, what do you do?" Nat asked after he'd gotten a couple sips of his drink down. It was only fair play that since he knew so much about her she returned the favor with her own questions.

"Oh I pick up jobs here and there," he assured her with a chuckle.

Her eyebrows flew up. "Well, they must be rather well paying if you can afford to fly first class to Russia. C'mon," she nudged him. "Spill it."

He snorted, though he was still relaxed beside her. "Alright. The truth?"

"The truth."

"I'm working on taking over a teaching position if I can get a recommendation from one of my old professors. He's since retired and I thought going to meet him might convince him that I was serious enough for te position."

"What do you want to teach?" Natasha asked, leaning back in her seat. "And the guy must be worth if it you're flying all the way from New York to Russia."

"Well it'd be teaching at NYU, so yeah that's worth it," he laughed. "And-promise you won't laugh at me?"

"I promise," she said, forcing her face to go straight and sober, though the corners of her lips kept flicking upwards. She couldn't help it-he looked like a puppy waiting for a treat as he looked at her, his green eyes big and searching hers. It was almost enough to melt her heart. "Really, I do promise."

"Theater." He said with a small chuckle.

"Really?" She asked, blinking rapidly. Huh. She was getting rusty if it was taking her that long to peg him down as something. Theatrical, yes, she could see that now as she knew his profession choice. Enigmatic, charaismatic. Yes. He'd do well at what Ivan had once taught her, how to forge and sneak her way into any situation, usually to get blackmail. It had been one of the many reasons she'd left his care.

She needed to stop thinking about that. He was rolling his eyes, muttering that he told her not to laugh and she quickly backtracked, reaching out to take his shoulder in her hand.

"Hey, not judging you, I promise." She said with an easy, reassuring smile, the same she'd give to her students when she'd taught as a graduate assistant to tell them that their ideas weren't completely terrible. "No judgement."

"You business majors with your solid professions and majors," he said, and had she not seen the glint in his eye she might've thought that he was serious. "Always looking down on the rest of us. Our majors are just as important as yours."

She smirked, sitting back in her seat as her hand trailed down. "Well, if you're that hung up about it I could make it up to you."

That got his attention. Those nearest to them had their attention elsewhere or else were sleeping, the flight attendants were off in the coach section of the airplane, and Nat's eyes flicked to the bathroom.

"I'm going to go powder my nose," she said, sitting much closer to him so that her lips brushed against his earlobe. "And I'll give it a few minutes. If you're not interested and I've been reading you incorrectly-" which she wasn't. "Then I'll come back and we'll pretend this never happened. If you are interested, though. Well, I'll see you soon." She winked, feeling a thrill of adrenaline and power as she saw him straighten in his seat, shifting his legs not so subtly. Heh. She didn't think she'd been wrong, and well she'd been looking for an excuse to get him to follow her. That looked as good as any, she supposed. As she shifted to undo her seatbelt he mirrored the action, standing so that she could get through. She wasn't very subtle with the way she pressed her backside into his groin, grinning to feel him already hard, and for once he seemed to be without a sort of come back, his Adam's apple bobbing quickly as he swallowed, his eyes following her as she slipped into the bathroom. The door firmly shut behind her, but not locked, she took half a minute to check her appearance in the mirror, noting with distaste that the color was higher in her cheeks than it ought to have been. She blamed it entirely on her buzz having kicked in, and for a split second, as she was left in the empty bathroom, she thought she'd made a complete ass out of herself. Her and her stupid words.

The next second the door opened and Loki's grinning face appeared, locking hte door behind them as he pressed his lips hard to hers, catching her face in between his two hands as he pressed his tongue to the seam of her lips, making Natasha gasp and part them for him without issue. They didn't have much time, she knew, and without preamble she shucked her pants slipping one long leg out of them entirely as he fiddled with his belt, his hands on her now bare hips, hiking her up onto the counter space, the linoleum cold against her backside. He slipped two fingers into his mouth, wetting them, before pulling her panties to the side and pressing his fingers inside of her. She bit back a loud moan as her head tipped backwards and her eyes closed, whimpering as he stretched her out hurriedly, slicking his hand with her arousal before bringing his hand to his cock, already hard and waiting. Her eyes caught on it and widened. Well then, tall men really did have all the best secrets.

He pushed into her in one swift thrust, choking her in surprise before he pulled back just as hard, repeating the rhythm until she was shouting into his clothed shoulder, her hands having snaked up under his shirt to scratch at his back.

He hissed in her ear at how good she felt, and she whimpered as he picked up the speed once more, the faucet sticking into her back and making her arch up against him, her breasts pressed hard to his chest. She didn't last long like that, whispering his name over and over as she clung to him, her orgasm overtaking her and nearly making her shout in surprise, her whole body tightening around him. He followed shortly after, pulling her by the hair to kiss her hard on the lips, and didn't pull away until the aftershocks had finished between the both of them, Loki thrusting shallowly to help her through them.

"Wow," Nat whispered against his lips, grinning up at him. Not bad at all for a quickie-she hadn't come that hard in years.

He hummed his agreement to her before pulling out with a groan. "You want out first?" He asked.

"Yeah. If you don't mind." At least she wouldn't get the brunt of the attention. She hoped. Even if she did to hell with it. There'd be a new plane, a new batch of stewardesses, and a ton of new passengers on the next flight. What did she have to worry about? Cleaning herself up she straightened her hair as best she could, kissed Loki once more, and finally left. The stewardess glanced at her, curiously, but left it at that, the pieces not coming together until Loki followed shortly after Nat. She thought she heard the woman mutter something about 'disgusting kids' before Nat finally took her seat again.

* * *

A/N: Well, here we are again. This will be a one-shot in a longer stretch of them, all of which will be connected. As the story goes on it will be explained, but there's much more where this came from =] Thanks for reading!


	2. 1(2)

**Just a warning: this chapter tends to get a little triggery. If you have an aversion to kidnap or someone being held hostage please skip to the very end of this chapter. Thanks!**

Nat was happy to leave the plane when they got off at Germany, needing to catch the connecting flight to get to Russia, and judging by the leveled glares she was receiving from the stewardesses they weren't too sorry to see her go, either. They had a good two five layover between flights, and Loki offered to buy her a drink in the meanwhile. Her head still a little fuzzy from the vodka before the flight she declined the drink but was all for going to get something to eat, anything to soak up the liquor before it actually made her sick. It hadn't happened before, but she wasn't looking to make this the first time. They managed to find a Starbucks, and though Nat had insisted on buying her own breakfast Loki had slid his card over to the barista despite her complaints, a smooth smirk on his lips.

"Well if I can't buy you a drink at least allow me to act the gentleman in some other way," he teased. "It's the least I could do."

She rolled her eyes. Right, as though there was any use acting the gentleman after they'd fucked on a plane. She could definitely see the correlation between the two, and his smirk widened as though he was thinking the same. Brat.

"And speaking of that, since we've got a decently long enough layover. Want to get a quick room for the day?" He asked after she'd sat down, smiling indulgently. "I can show you just what sort of gentleman I can be rather than a quickly at a thousand miles in the air."

She felt her cheeks heat up a little as she stared down at the breakfast sandwich in her hands. It was tempting. Very tempting. She wouldn't mind spending a few more hours getting to know him before they would go their separate ways in Russia, and besides she had no idea if they would even be sitting next to one another on this next flight. She didn't want to give him up, not that soon after getting him, so to speak. But at the same time she didn't know him. Not really. Certainly she knew his job, she knew his constant fight with his adoptive family, and knew he was damn good in the bedroom, but more than that?

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea," she said as she looked up at him. "It's not that I don't want to-."

"No, no I understand," he smiled, and there was no judgement in his face when she looked back up at hi, nothing but admiration, as though he was proud of her for sticking to her guns and not being pressured to do something she didn't want to. Well that was a plus, and she felt regret bubbling deep in the pit of her gut when she thought about not seeing him again.

"Maybe when we get back to New York we can go out sometime?" She offered with an easy smile. "If you give me your number I can get a hold of you when I get back to town, and we can go get coffee or dinner or something."

"Sure, that sounds great," he said, the same charismatic smile stretching his cheeks, but she was certain for half a second she could see something else. Something far more feral. She swatted the thought aside, though. They'd fucked in an airplane bathroom and she was worried that he looked at her in a sexual manner? Ridiculous, she was. Really ridiculous. They exchanged numbers and kept talking for a little while longer before Natasha excused herself to make a couple calls, disappearing into the women's bathroom with her things. Not that she didn't trust Loki, she told herself. Assured herself. Because to distrust him would be stupid, but to trust him wholly, entirely just because they'd had a physical connection? That would be far more idiotic, and she wasn't going to take any more risks like that.

The airport was furiously busy and she pushed through the crowds as best she could, pardoning herself in the little German she'd picked up as she tried to make her way to the restrooms, small carry-on in tow, phone in hand as she dialed Steve's number without having to look. He'd be asleep by now, she told herself as she looked at the time differences between countries, but he picked up either way.

"Nat," he sounded relieved. "How're you doing? Are you in Russia already?"

"No," she chuckled. "No I'm in Germany. I've got a five or so hour layover then I get on another plane to Russia. So it's gonna be awhile."

"Oh, okay," he said, barely stifling a yawn that made Natasha smile. She could practically see his ruffled up blond hair, the bleary light in his half-opened blue eyes as he looked over at her. They might have split up due to differences that were too great to overcome in a romantic relationship, but she'd always care for him, and that he was willing to take the call when it was so late there meant he felt the same, and that was enough to make her heart heavy with gratefulness.

"How was the flight?" He asked as she pushed closer to the bathroom, passing just behind a pillar to take a breather. She wasn't expecting a hand to grab out at her mouth and cover it, wasn't expecting to be pressed against a hard body, muffling shouts until a heavy pressure pushed into the soft spot at the back of her skull and she felt her world pitch forward around her, the phone falling from her hands, Steve's voice shouting out for her before everything went black.

* * *

She woke up to an aching head and bright, white teeth grinning broadly down at her. _'My, what big teeth you have,'_ she couldn't help but think as she tried to rub her eyes, finding her hands were bound above her head.

"You really should've taken my offer," Loki's voice came, soft, muffled as though Nat's ears were filled with cotton.

That snapped her back, her eyes going wide as she stared up at Loki, watching as he sat back on the bed beside her, her limbs useless and tied up tighter than she could get out of. She tried to shout but found her mouth filled with something that restricted her words, drying out her mouth and wringing her free of words.

Shit.

Her eyes widened as Loki's words finally sank in. What the hell was he playing at? She felt herself begin to shiver as he pulled away from her, her gaze following him, the whole while doing her best to at least keep her wits about her. Tied to the bed was definitely nothing she was necessarily new to, but in this sort of situation? Where she was in anything but a safe, sane, or consensual situation? She tried to wriggle out of the bindings above her, the cotton chafing at her wrists. No good. They were solid and well done, and Loki gave a quiet sigh as he watched her struggle.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he assured her, though she very much doubted it, the roll of her eyes saying just as much to him. He gave a small smile and ran his hand over her cheek, his touch gentle, and though she pulled away with a glare she couldn't deny that her cheeks flushed a little at his touch. It was nothing more than a reaction based on the memories of what had happened last time, she told herself. That was it. Besides, she couldn't help but note how his breath caught in his throat the more it looked as if she was giving in, so perhaps the longer she played that up the safer she would be. She tamped down on her fear as best she could, pushing it deep, deep down as she had done decades ago growing up with Ivan as her father. She could do this. She had to do this. The stakes were high, the reward worth it, and the risk? She couldn't think of that, not then.

"I just need to hold you until my boss gets here. He just wants to talk with you," Loki insisted, his voice soft and as unthreatening as he could make it. She snapped her head to attention once more. "So it doesn't have to be like htis, Natasha. I don't want it to be. But I need you to promise me that you won't try and leave." He paused. "Can you?"

She gave him a look, doing her best to remind him that the gag in her mouth made responding more than a little difficult. His responding laugh was quiet, almost apologetic, as he made to remove her gag. She groaned, stretching her jaw and wondering just how long she'd had that in her mouth if she was so sore.

"What do you want with me?" She asked, voice hoarse, cracking slightly to her embarrassment. Not that he seemed to notice.

"Just to talk about what your adoptive father left you is all," he promised. "But I can't tell you more than that."

"So why are you waiting till now? Shouldn't I have seen you before?" She demanded, trying to loosen her body so that there wasn't as much tension in her wrists bindings as he moved to undo them, allowing her to sit up and rub the sore skin where she'd been held. She tried not to think of how many times he'd done that, how practiced he had to have been to be that good at it to have been able to hold her so easily. It only made her heart race and her adrenaline spike her blood.

"I'm very good at what I do," he assured her with a soft voice that set goosebumps spiking up her back and would've made her heart catch in her throat if she wasn't expecting it and managed to hide it.

_'Play it cool.'_

"So that's how you knew so much about my major, about business. That's what this is about, isn't it?" Natasha asked quietly. "Ivan left his business to me, or to Alexei or Vanko, and you want it. Or your employer does." She guessed. His surprised face told her all too easily that she'd guessed it all, and he gave a quiet laugh, almost appreciative.

"You're smart. Much smarter than your adoptive father ever gave you credit for."

"No kidding," she said as she felt her legs being released, and pulled them up to her waist, looking quickly around the room. It was dark save the light from the corner lamp, which just barely illuminated all the corners of the room. The door leading out was open, and another hid itself in the furthest corner of her room, leading into another darkened one that she could only assume was the bathroom. She filed it away quickly, taking in the darkened landscape just outside one of the tall windows, so tall she would have to find something to stand on if she wanted to try and escape through there.

"Don't," Loki said quietly. Well, it would seem she wasn't the only mind reader in the area. She didn't respond, and shied away from him when he reached out to take her shoulder.

"I'm really not here to hurt you, I promise." Loki said, and he sounded honest, but wasn't the devil supposed to play all the best tunes? She kept that in mind as she looked over at him and searched his eyes.

"You were just supposed to track me down and get me to stay here before I went to my father's funeral, to stop me from claiming my inheritance because your boss wants it for himself. Wants whatever little my son of a bitch father thought to leave me." She swallowed hard, willing herself to cry. The quicker she broke the quicker he'd trust her. "God, was any of what you said to me on the airplane even true? About your half brother and your aspirations, or was it all a line to get me to trust you?"

"It was true," he insisted, scooting a little closer to her. She pulled in on herself, hiding her head in her knees as she sobbed and her whole body shook. While Loki busied himself in trying to console her, trying to explain to her however he'd gotten caught up in whatever it was his boss wanted him to do, she let her mind wander. She didn't dare stay longer than a day in this house, and she supposed a night would be enough time to gain his trust enough for her to give him the slip, as well as for her to get the quick layout of the house. It didn't seem modern, so she was willing to bet some of the door locks were simple enough that she could pick them, or at the very least break them down, suddenly grateful for Steve's self-training lessons. They might not have worked when she was in the airport but she didn't intend on getting taken unaware like that ever again.

Her mind went back to the can of mace in her bedside table in her flat. Useless.

Plan in mind, she resurfaced to look at Loki with bleary eyes. "I want to call my friend."

His face blanked. "No. I can't let you."

"Loki-he's going to worry, and I'm not about to let him have a heart attack because your boss decided he got greedy. Give me five minutes. You can sit right there with me. I just want to make sure he's okay." She insisted, her eyes solid as she allowed him to reach out to her hand and take one of them in his. If it made him feel better, made him feel as though she was giving in, then she'd let it go, even as she felt her skin crawl from his touch, both clawing to get closer and to scratch his eyes out for seeing her naked, for defiling her body and her mind. For playing her like he had.

Later. She would get revenge for it later. He gave a grudging sigh as he pulled out his cell phone and handed it over. She frowned, opening her mouth to ask where her own had gone before remembering he'd thrown it to the ground when he'd taken her.

"You owe me a new one," she gave a quiet growl, her eyes narrowed, as she dialed Steve's number, grateful that she had it memorized. She wondered if she should try-she could. If she failed it would set her back severely.

She swallowed hard as the phone dialed, feeling her throat closing in nerves as the four walls around her seemed to close in-.

"Hello?" Steve's voice was thick with concern despite how quickly the word came out. "Natasha?"

"Hey, Steve," She had to clear her throat hard to keep herself from losing it. Control. She needed control. She forced herself to breathe deep.

"Nat-good God, what happened? Are you okay?" He asked, his voice pushing the words together until they were nearly unrecognizable.

She found herself nodding. "Yeah, I'm good. Steve, I'm fine. Just had a complication with the plane. I'm gonna be gone a little longer than I meant to be." She looked over to Loki, hoping he would deny it. The dip of his head was enough to make her heart thud harder.

"What was wrong with the plane? Why couldn't they just get you on another one?" Steve asked. He'd always been so damn good at reading her when she was in the middle of trouble, and even better at getting her out. Perhaps she could tell him-.

No. She didn't have the strength just then to pull it off. She needed to be clever about it. Crafty. Loki would be suspecting something. "I dunno, Steve," she said, voice softening as it so often did when she wanted him to listen carefully to what she was saying. Wisely he didn't say another thing. "But hey, I'll be okay. I'm in Germany-."

The phone was taken from her hand and clicked off.

"He's fine." Loki said, and his voice was very near empty. So he hadn't missed the emotion that had gone into what she was telling Steve. She wasn't sure yet if it was a good or a bad thing. "Is that enough to satisfy you?"

"Can I get a shower? And some new clothes?" She asked, tipping her chin up to try and face off against him, visibly shaking now. He seemed to keep himself from reaching out to her, as though on instinct, before nodding and pointing his head towards the bathroom.

"Sure. I'll be just outside, then we'll get something to eat. I'm sure you're hungry."

Yes, she was, and it would be easier to maneuver her way around the city with a full stomach rather than being distracted by hunger. She muttered a quick thanks and crawled off of the bed. He offered her clothing she recognized from her own suitcase, though it was nowhere to be found, before moving to stand outside the bathroom door.

It was windowless, so there went her plans to try and escape that way. She struggled to keep from hyperventilating as she gripped the porcelain of the tub, drawing hot water until she managed to figure out how to work the showerhead. Only once the water started to drip on her bare skin did she let herself go, the sobs escaping with ease as she trembled and held on with white knuckles to the wall to keep herself from falling to her knees. How the hell had she gotten here?

* * *

She emerged an hour or so later, skin red and rubbed near raw in her attempt to get him off of her skin, the deep purple v-neck covering up her arms but showing off far more cleavage than she felt comfortable with, while at least the jeans felt comfortable and familiar, still. His expression softened slightly as he took her in.

"Still hungry?" He asked, voice quiet.

"Yes, please," she said, though she didn't meet his eyes as he led her to the kitchen, taking in the small layout of the house. The living room door would be her best bet for an escape, and though what was on the other side of it was a mystery it was at least close enough that she should be able to get there in a few strides from the bedroom. She didn't see another one, and it made sense why he was staying so close. He wasn't about to let her out of his sight for a moment, knowing all too well that she might get the idea that she could run in her head. She tried to think if he'd have any weapons around the house, her eyes sticking to the small knife block as he led her into the kitchen and sat her down, offering to make sandwiches. She didn't eat much, though thanked him for the turkey sandwich in her hands, Loki devouring his own without much thought. She simply pushed it to the side of the paper plate he'd gotten for her, her face listless she was sure.

"What's going to happen to me after I give your boss what he wants?" She asked. Why bother with any other scenario? If they were so determined to get her like this she would have to give them what they wanted. If she stayed, that was.

"You'll be free to go back to your home, to do whatever you wish, continue on with your Doctorate degree if you wish. Life will return to normal," he said, sitting back in his seat, her eyes meeting his. "And I'll be checking up on you every so often to make sure that you don't tell anyone what happened. You won't do that, will you Natasha?"

She hated the way her body reacted to how he said her name, hated that she could remember how he'd moaned it as he sheathed himself in her on the plane. Was that how it was done? They got under your skin, got you at your most vulnerable, and somehow she could never get him out again?

No. That wasn't okay. Even as her body betrayed her she looked away.

"No, I won't." She murmured.

"You don't have to be afraid of me," Loki said, the silence that had stood between the two of them having gotten to be too strong for him to stand.

She tried not to snort. Right. He'd taken her hostage, was telling her that she had to will over whatever small thing it was that Ivan had bothered to give to her, hell she'd woken up tied to a bed, and he was telling her that she didn't have to be afraid of him?

He sighed and dropped his head into his hand, letting out that soft, apologetic laugh again. It might've been cute if she hadn't wanted to punch him for it.

"Okay. We got off to a rough start-."

"No, the start was fine. The middle is what gets me," Natasha snapped. "You were a perfectly fine gentleman and now you're some crazy psychopath!"

"I'm doing my job."

"And I was trying to fly to get to my father's funeral."

"He's hardly your father," he said with a scoff.

"How do you know all of this? Stop it!" She said, finally pushing herself back from the table and getting to her feet, in enough of a rush that her chair clattered to the ground. Her sudden reaction caused him to go very still, his eyes pinpointing on her as his shoulders straightened and his hand clenched his right side. Gun, she was guessing. Or a knife. Whatever the weapon was she didn't really want to find out through him having to use it, and so allowed herself to burst into tears again and sink to the ground, the kitchen small enough that she only had to scoot backwards a few inches before her back hit the cupboard.

"Just please s-stop," she begged through her fingers, her hands covering her face as she kept the crying up. She'd gotten good at perfecting it for professors, never had she thought that she'd need it in a situation like this. She heard the chair scrape against the linoleum floor as he moved closer to her and picked her up, surprisingly strong for his slight frame, to bring her back to the bedroom. He laid her down there, and she felt him lay beside her, obviously having no concept of personal space. It wasn't surprising, she supposed as she thought about it and let herself tremble in his arms, feeling how he favored his left side, keeping his right within range at all time. She was right to think weapon, and if he wasn't removing it she could only guess it was slim enough to not cause a problem when not on his feet. Knife was her safest bet, she thought, and after a few minutes, she allowed herself to curl into him, turning herself around to bury her head in his chest, slowing her breathing to pantomime sleep, her whole entire body relaxing as he wrapped his arms around her.

She hadn't expected to feel the exhaustion hit her like a truck, barreling into her so hard she wasn't sure how to breathe at first, shuddering once more before she eventually got control over herself. All the while he soothed her as best he seemed to know how, rubbing her back and breathing her in as he planted his nose to the top of her head. She could feel him smile against her.

"It's going to be alright, Natasha. I'm going to take care of you."

Obsessive didn't seem to start to fit the bill.

* * *

It took some time before he eventually fell asleep, and Natasha was just lucky enough to have escaped it herself, sliding out of his embrace as slowly as she could, barely managing to put a pillow in her place and pausing every few seconds to make sure that his breathing remained normal. Even. That he still slept.

His phone would be in his pocket, Loki not having removed anything since they'd been lying there, along with his wallet and the knife. She could pick up a few of those on her way out, could pickpocket what money she had to, but it was the phone she really wanted.

Or her passport, or the rest of her damn belongings wherever they might've been. She hadn't seen them when she'd gotten time to look around the room, though they had to be there somewhere if she'd been dressed in her own clothing.

Oh well, she didn't have time to think it over. She needed to get somewhere safe. She padding out on the cold ground towards the door, grateful for the creepy silence of his floorboards. She supposed it was good for a killer, or kidnapper, or whatever the hell Loki was. As planned, she snagged a knife from the block in the kitchen, grateful that he seemed to have spent a decent amount of money on them, and at the same time a little weirded out that he had Martha Stewart brand knives. Whatever.

There were boots at the door, men's boots and far too big for her feet, but she laced them up and tied them tight all the same, barely trusting to breathe. Almost there. Almost there. Her fingers trembled as she undid the lock, and for half a second she was terrified the noise would wake him, keeping her ears keen on his even breathing, trying to use it to calm herself down. As long as that continued, then she would be fine.

The alarms blared as soon as she opened the door, but she didn't have time to think or do anything else except sprint, tripping over her own feet as she raced down the stairs and jumped down the last few, landing on her hands and her knees, before scrambling back up to her feet and running out the door. Just before she got out she could hear Loki shouting her name, her would-be captor hot on her heels, but the commotion woke the other neighbors and she could hear their doors opening too before the door behind her swung shut and she was out-out!-into the night.

* * *

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! I appreciate it :D


	3. 1(3)

Truth be told she had no idea where she was going, only that she needed to disappear out of sight as quickly as she could. It wouldn't be long before Loki caught up with her once more, and she swallowed her fear as best she could as the sound of her oversized boots hitting the pavement echoed in her chest, drowned out only by the thudding of bass coming from down the street. She could hear more shouting coming from behind her and, not wanting to chance it, turned in the direction of the music. If she could just get inside wherever it was coming from-a club likely, or a bar of some sort-and lose herself in the crowd she might have half a chance. It was the only plan she had, at least.

Though she'd forgotten to grab money on her way out of the apartment, she managed to sneak into the club without much issue, the noise deafening as she stepped in with a large crowd of other girls, pretending to smile and mingle as they walked past the two bouncers, Nat wishing her German was far better, the stolen knife burning where she'd slipped it into the side of her boot. At least here, with the music so loud and the lights bright enough to blind, she wouldn't have to worry too much about attracting attention, sure that if she could just find a dark corner to wait it out she would be able to blend in without issue. Thankful for the time spent partying at clubs her first two years at university, she worked to press her way through the crowd with relative ease, smiling and pardoning herself as quietly as possible whenever she stepped on someone's toes or else elbowed someone too hard in the ribs. It wasn't easy work, and every time someone grabbed out at her she felt her heart dip into her stomach, felt her throat close up and her eyes widen with fear whenever she caught sight of green eyes or black hair. It was a miracle she got through at all without a panic attack, she told herself as she considered it all, rubbing her hands over her arms to keep herself from breaking into goosebumps as she kept trying to disappear. Beer was spilled on her on more than one occasion, and the floor was already sticky enough to walk on without the added slick of the spilled liquor to add to her trouble with her oversized boots.

As she neared the furthest corner from the door, from which she could stand with her back to everything, something she sorely needed if she was to get any sort of peace of mind, a pair of hands took her by the hips and ground against her, quick German racing into her ear as the owner's hips moved in tandem with the music. Nat pushed away from him with all the force she could muster, trying to summon what little German she knew to tell the man off, before he pressed a drink into her hand.

"Lighten up," He said, his English broken as he grinned at her, teeth gapped and eyes beady. "Have a little fun, yeah?"

Right, as if she'd actually drink it. How stupid did he think she was? She shook her head and tried to give him the drink back, but he had already started to walk away, leaving her there with the tepid brown liquid stinking of wheat and barley and cheap liquor. She tried to look for a place to set it, but finding none she clenched it tight in her hand. Her eyes looked down at the clear surface. Would it really be that bad if she had a sip? Hell it might help her loosen up, as the man suggested.

And surely there couldn't be anything in it if he had prepared to drink it herself, and damn her nerves were frazzled enough as it was.

But she couldn't be sure about it, and everyone else was drinking, so wouldn't it make sense to at least blend in? She tried to manage her way through, the drink feeling heavier in her hand and on her mind every second. She felt pathetic for considering it, but what the hell. She tipped the cup back and took a sip of the drink in her hand. It tasted normal, at least, and she'd been careful to take a small bit of it in her mouth before swallowing it, and as the warm liquor coursed through her throat and buried itself deep into her belly she felt the same heat spreading through her veins. That would be nicer, she supposed, than the deep fear that had rooted itself there at one point, now loosening up as she took another sip. She wouldn't drink the whole thing, she reasoned with herself. Just enough to take the edge off. If she was too uptight then she couldn't think properly, and if she couldn't think well, she was dead. To drink too much would result in the same, and so after half of the glass she passed it off into someone else's hand, finally coming to stand in the corner she'd so coveted.

He wasn't going to find her. She was certain of it, even as the thin film of liquor spread over her vision, warming her pleasantly, not like the uncomfortable heat that had spread due to the closeness of the bodies around her. He wasn't going to get her. Though her boots were too big, and her clothing stood out in comparison to the short skirts and thin t-shirts of those women around her, she was too small to be noticed. Had she had time she'd have dyed her hair something other than its obvious bright shade of red, but even that got covered in the dim lighting, showing up pink or yellow as the colored lights above her shifted.

She was safe. She was free.

She felt eyes on her, eyes that sent goosebumps up her skin, and her comfort turned to heavy dread in her veins. Her bones stiffened as she tried to pinpoint where the attention was coming from, though in hindsight that was a really dumb idea. As she turned others did as well, catching her attention and holding it from time to time, even spurning others to come up to her and dance. She tried refusing, brain scrambling with her desire to get out, get free. Anything. A pair of hands held her by the hips, gently pulling her back and grinding against her, the hard outline of someone's cock pressed against her backside.

"Stop," she choked, turning around. The sight of Loki behind her made her tremble, and the man looked immediately shocked at the gurgled shriek that left her lips. The black hair she thought she saw melded to brown, and the once green eyes faded to deep blue.

"Oh, God-Sorry," she had to stutter, pushing away and slipping as best she could through the crowd, away from her safe haven of a corner, away from the man who'd looked-she swore he was-.

God she was going crazy. Or the liquor had been spiked. Her heart sped up in her chest, heating her even further until she felt like her skin was going to melt off of her muscles and bones. She was an idiot, she was so stupid, why had she even bothered taking a sip-.

"Natasha," she heard her voice being called from around her, echoing in her ears, sending goosebumps up her too-hot flesh and making her whip around, elbow digging into the gut of a nearby woman. She shouted in loud, angry German, attracting more attention than Natasha was comfortable having, and with wide eyes Nat pushed her way through the crowd. She tripped over her boots, landing against one of the nearest bodies, which turned to catch her as best as he could. Pale skin, strong hands, long fingers.

She shrieked again, the man releasing her with a surprised start at her own volatile reaction. "Are you alright?" His English was broken, but she shook her head and pulled away. Brown eyes, not green. Blond hair, not jet-black. She _was _fine, _was _safe. She knew it.

But how long?

The club was a bad, bad idea, and she raced to the bathroom, pushed her way through the already lined up women and threw up into the nearest sink, not caring for the disgusted complaints and shouts coming from those behind her, only knowing that she had to get it out of her body, out of her system. Idiot, idiot, idiot. The heavy bass was making her head ache, the light from above making her eyes sore, and all over she felt as though she was coming apart at the seams. How the hell was she going to make it without money, without a place to stay, and manage to get to the embassy to get back to America?

She shoved back the tears that pricked her eyes and washed out her mouth with water as best she could, trying to get the acrid taste of bile from her lips and tongue, the cool liquid heaven to her over sensitive nerve endings as she pushed herself up from the sink.

'_Get moving, Tasha. Get moving or die.'_ It was that simple.

Wiping her mouth clear she slid her way through the other bodies of women waiting for the bathroom, ignoring the glares she received by keeping her head down and taking another look out at the writhing bodies on the floor, the newest song quick, the strobe lights being used so that it seemed as if almost everything was slowing down. She swallowed her fear and the need to vomit again before pushing her way through the outskirts of the people, trying to feel her way for another safe place. Perhaps near the very center, this time, where she would be so surrounded that she would be unrecognizable from anyone else. She pushed her way through, trying to smile and seem as light hearted as those around her, but everytime someone so much as put a hand on her she felt her heart rate near kill her.

_'Move or die.' _

She gave way to instinct. Her brain wasn't helping her then, not when she kept overthinking everything that happened, and so when she finally got to her destination she did her best to let go, to try and relax and let her body move with the beat. The music was infectious, the pounding in her heart subsided, and for the first time in what felt like a lifetime she smiled. She was safe in this mob of bodies, in this mess of human life and contact, and though she never thought to be feeling so happy in such a thick crowd, more of a loner than anything else, she couldn't be touched here without causing a scene. Right?

* * *

All things, however, came to an end, and as the night wore on, as she felt her exhaustion hitting her like the wrecking ball song that she swore she heard at least three times that night, she felt her sense of safety go with it. Those that she'd surrounded herself with began to thin, and though she'd struck up a few conversations, and even considered the idea of going home with one of the men who'd asked her out for sheer sake of using it as an excuse to get further away from Loki, she didn't see that turning out well. If anything it'd only lead to her being further away from town, further away from help, and she wasn't about to put herself through that. She had, however, managed to steal a couple of bills while making out with one of the men nearest her before he'd left, and Nat had slipped the money into her bra for safe keeping, not sure how many others would be doing the same thing. Still, as the people began to dwindle away she considered how much she had and whether it would be enough to at least get her a night at a cheap hostel. She had a weapon to keep herself safe, that was certain, but she couldn't help thinking that the money could be used for a cab, or to get a call to Steve or Clint or someone to verify that she was indeed who she said she was. It wasn't as though she had a passport or anything else to verify it.

Hell, she didn't even know if Loki was the bastard's real name, what the address was that he'd kept her, or anything else. She refused to let the tear get to her this time, though, pushing it deep down to sit heavy in her gut before moving once more to the bathrooms. Could she possibly stay in here the whole night?

Doubtful. They'd be coming in to clean, and she didn't want to risk getting caught and bringing more attention to herself. She took a couple handfuls of sink water, washing her face off with it as well before she came out once more.

The grip that found her wrist and her mouth was tight, and though the crowds had thinned the music was still more than loud enough to drown out her screams and shouts against the cool palm pressed against her lips, gagging her.

"I told you I would take care of you," Loki's voice hissed in her ear as he began to drag her backwards, towards what she assumed to be a back exit, his lips warn against her suddenly cool and clammy skin, her body going rigid with shock before she writhed and tried to pull away, Loki dragging her without issue. Once upon a time she'd known how to throw a man off of her when she was in a position like this, yet even as she tried to position herself he stuck his knee hard into the base of her spine, the pain sending flashes of light in front of her eyes and making her muscles spasm with shock. She tried biting down on his hands but he simply sighed and pressed her hard against the wall, the shadows covering them both up. For all anyone could see they were just a couple sneaking away for a private moment.

"Natasha, relax," he breathed into her ear. "Relax and I won't have to hurt you. I know you're tired, I know you're scared but you have to trust me."

'Said the wolf to his prey,' Natasha couldn't help but think, very much trembling for real beneath his hands as she felt him press harder against her. There was a shift, and something cold and metal, sharp enough to make her grit her teeth, pressed into her back, her body held tightly in place by Loki's hips against hers. "Now. I can make this painful and take you with me, or we can do this the easy way, where you don't cause a fuss and-."

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?" A voice demanded, loud and thickly accented as one of the bouncers came up to them. He was enormous, blond, and Loki stiffened as he slipped the knife back into his pocket. Nat saw her opportunity and seized it As Loki began to loosen his grip on her, a smooth lie coming out about how they'd just been having a little fun, she slammed her head back into his, hearing the satisfying crack of breaking his nose before dropping down to grab the knife out of her boot. The bodyguard shouted for her to stop, but she pushed through him without issue, far quicker than his brawn allowed for as she took off running. She wasn't going to get stuck, not again-.

* * *

Natasha Romanov woke in the Avengers Tower, gasping for breath as she sat up quickly, blinking rapidly and trying to rub at her eyes, trying to get the last semblances of Loki's face out of her head.

"Natasha, you're okay, you're safe," Clint's voice said in her ear, his hand coming out to rub her back. She felt the needle in her veins shift as he brushed against it and she forced herself to stare at it, to recognize it. It had all been a dream, or rather a product of Loki's dreams. The man was lying at her side, a similar needle connected to his veins, his brow pulled tight in his sleep. He wouldn't wake, not soon. Not until she'd gotten through his memories. The spell, as Thor had explained it when he'd brought the out-cold man to the tower. He'd gotten on the wrong side of a sorceress who'd enchanted him to sleep forever unless someone was brave enough to traverse into Loki's mind and weed out the parts of him that were most dangerous.

Only Natasha had been brave enough, or stupid depending on their interpretation, and that had definitely been Clint's, to step up to the challenge.

"Did anything change?" She choked, the memories and terror of the dream fading into the background as she looked up to Bruce. The doctor shook his head.

"Nothing. I'm afraid-there might be more-."

"Put me under again," Nat said with a nod, steeling herself. Across the room Thor started to apologize, to say that she didn't have to, but she cut him off by raising a hand. "I owe you for the help you gave me against Skurge, and besides if it helps your brother be less crazy-I'm all for it." She felt her cheeks strain with the smile, though Barton's snort made her punch him in the arm. Idiot.

Bruce was working between she and Loki again, checking the drug that connected the both of them and put them out, the compound he'd learned from a chemist friend he'd met some time ago he said. Nat trusted him, and as she laid back down and closed her eyes she couldn't help but wonder what the hell Loki's imagination was going to bring forth next. If obsession, which she could only assume was the latter, was out of the way, what more was she going to have to deal with?

* * *

A/N:

Buahaha.  
Well, I hope the ending makes sense, if not please lemme know so I can fix it, but I hope hope hope it came off well.  
I'll try and update with the next dream sequence/AU ASAP, till then thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!


	4. 2(1)

The Jotuns, it seemed, were not as poorly off as Natasha and her battalion had been led to believe. For months they'd been planning the attack, the infiltration of Thor's coronation having been the kindling that fueled a hatred bubbling just beneath the public eye for so long that for the first time since the first war with Jotunheim they armories had been bled dry of metal, that enlistments within Asgard's armies had risen, and as they made preparations for the siege of the wasteland known as a realm talk of not just putting the Jotuns in their place but of destroying them-defeating them and wiping them out for good, as it was said Odin ought to have done centuries ago-ran rampant across the training fields and within the barracks. For after all, what good was a race who sought only to cause chaos and sneak around, nowhere near the bold and courageous Aesir, when they came to a new realm?

Perhaps, Natasha thought as she was forced to her knees before their king, they'd been overestimating their own abilities. Her wrists were stinging from the freezing shackles around them, locking her hands behind her back, and she was certain that her kneecaps would shatter if the guard above her pressed any harder on her shoulder to keep her firmly in place. Teeth gritting together, she blinked rapidly to keep the tears of pain from spilling as the Jotun's cold, blue fingers pressed hard into one of her shoulder wounds, barely healed and forcing her to suck in a quick breath from the spirals of pain sending sparks across her vision.

"Look at me, child," the soft, silken voice came from the one sitting in the throne before her, though she'd refused to look up. She'd gone to Jotunheim to kill every Jotun she met, not to kneel at his feet, a bitter, broken lieutenant sent to parlay and sue for whatever peace she could hope to get. '_Little_,' she thought as she bit on her tongue until it bled. They ought to have simply killed her when they had the chance-she'd garner nothing of any use from this meeting, no matter how much trust or faith in her Thor had.

She didn't get the choice where her eyes were allowed to stay as her bright red hair, braided and hanging thickly down her back, was tugged at until her neck went lax, her head rose, and her eyes fell on the beast in front of her.

The runt was sitting wide legged and bright eyed on the throne, a crown of ice that gleamed like jewels resting between his two horns and wrapping around to frame his face, his red eyes keenly fixed on her. His black hair was so long it fell to his chest, feathered so he looked as though he had ravens wings for hair, and his cheekbones so sharp she wouldn't have been surprised if they were made of ice themselves.

Had he not been her enemy she might've said he was beautiful.

Knives were strapped across his chest and Nat tried not to salivate at the idea of taking one and ripping his eyes out for the way he was staring at her. She'd performed a similar deed when one of the men she'd trained with had gotten the wrong idea about what type of lady she was, and she had little hesitations about doing it again. As it was, however, she didn't think she'd be getting free of the damn shackles any time soon.

He was not what she was expecting as a Jotun king, and worse than that the gleam that sharpened his eyes and the corners of his grin told her that he knew it. Their informant, the dark haired, green eyed man had told that Farbauti still sat on the throne and that there was dissention among the Jotuns due to the claims made by the eldest son. They'd anticipated the Jotuns to be divided, had planned and trained based on this information. Hell, Natasha didn't even know of the runt until this very moment, assuming Helbindi and Loki would be the only two siblings to worry about. She'd personally dispatched the first, cleaving his head in two the first day when his paltry army had stood against her enormous one, but she wasn't sure where Loki had slipped off to when the second army came to lay waste to her men. The coward must've seen the destruction and fled.

Unless-.

But that couldn't be possible. No. Her eyes went wide as she surveyed the king, mouth tipping open slightly. Though, she had to remind herself that so far all of her previous information had been wrong, hadn't it? So why would it surprise her if that was wrong, too?

"Loki Laufeyson?" She asked after licking her dry, cracked lips, tasting blood and hesitation.

He inclined his head ever-so slightly, the smirk widening until it became mocking and got under her skin. As if she needed another reason to want to slit his throat and see if the blood of the Jotun royalty was as blue as they said. Her jaw clenched.

"Were you expecting my mother?" He asked, voice still holding that strange softness, though he couldn't have looked any more pleased at making a fool of her.

If she ever made it back home alive she would fillet the bastard who'd given them the wrong information herself. She gritted her teeth and lifted her chin, forcing her face to grow blank. If he wanted to play games well then he was arguing with the wrong person. She'd had more than enough of her fair share of them and was in no mood. Besides, the sooner she finished up here the sooner she could return to Asgard and coax some feeling back into her fingers. Hopefully.

"We were, your highness," she said. "And I am sad to not have been able to have met her. I have heard she is an incredible woman." She did her best to pull out the courtly airs she'd always hated and Sif had told her she was absolutely awful at using. Still, if he thought her capable of being not only a warrior but a diplomat then this ought to go better for her. At least she could only hope.

Loki looked as though he was doing his best not to laugh, sitting back in his seat with mirth etched into his face. Nat only wished she could say she felt the same, but her knees and head ached and she would've much rather put a sword through Farbauti than meet and discuss politics with her. Loki must've known that, too.

"How kind of you," he said, condescending as all get out, so much so that it very nearly made Natasha's skin crawl, goosebumps rising on her flesh. Though that could've also been due to the cold that was beginning to seep into her bones. Not that Loki cared, ignoring it as he pressed on. "You've been brought to me to discuss peace terms have you not? What could you possibly have to offer to me?" He asked with a flourish of his hands, the golden chains roped around his blue skin jingling as he moved. The noise reminded her only of the jangling of the other chains, the bonds she heard their servants wore, causing her tension and nerves to rise further.

"What else could you want but peace?" She asked. "We will leave if you agree to let us and never again storm your realm. What is more we'll open trade between the two realms," she offered, trying to gauge his expression. If he was offended, well, she wasn't too sure what would happen to her, only that she'd sooner fall on her sword before staying there any longer than she had to. "What other terms do you wish?"

Oh she didn't like the look he was giving her, the way his lips curled and his eyes narrowed, bringing to mind a cat surveying its prey. She refused to be that, though, tilting her head higher, eyes slitting. No. She would allow no man to make her feel inferior. King or not.

"Trade, yes. You all would think that is a valuable bargaining chip." He stood and moved towards her. The long fur coat draped across his shoulders dragged on the floor, his bare feet making no noise as the guard holding Natasha's head up released her to step back away from her. Her neck ached from the strain of having to keep looking so far up, yet now that he stood closer his crotch was on eye level, the thin, leather trousers he wore so tight that it left little to the imagination. She leaned backwards onto her heels, trying to ease the strain on her neck as she got a close look at the scars and markings that ran up his blue torso, dipping down past the waistband of his trousers, peeking out on the undersides of his arms, up near his forehead, everywhere imaginable. His eyes were watching her, as he reached out to caress the side of her face. He wore vambraces on his arms, the metal dark black steel that extended towards his fingertips, where he wore claws of the same material over each finger, as though he thought himself a dragon or shadowcat. The sharp undersides of the talons made her shudder as he cupped her cheek. She swallowed thickly and looked up at him with what she hoped seemed like bored indifference rather than the hate she felt attempting to warm the rest of her body.

"But I want you as well," he said without shame, taking a turn around her as she blinked rapidly. What?

"I'm not for bargain. Your highness," she added quickly, doing her best to keep her voice as level as possible when all she wanted to do was strangle the bastard with the chains around his throat, or the ones around her wrists. Whichever came first. Assuming she got feeling back into her arms, that was. They'd gone numb some time ago.

"Everything is for bargain when you need something," he reminded her, moving a hand towards the braid and pulling her hair free of it, his metal claws catching gently on her scalp and making her hiss with barely muted surprise and . . no, that wasn't pleasure. Nothing he could do, short of dropping dead, could please her. She pulled her head free from where he'd caught a handful of her hair, glaring up at him, and yet in her haste to pull away she misjudged her own balance and toppled over onto her back. Loki laughed quietly as her cheeks heated in her embarrassment.

"I will put a knife through your gut," she snarled up at him, the cold of the ice floors seeping through her thin clothing as she struggled to get her legs to move. She'd been sitting in one position for far too long, however, and found it difficult to even consider getting to her feet. The other guards had tensed as she found her feet, willing her knees to not weaken any further, "You, dead at my feet, will be bargain enough for me."

"I am eager to see you try," he murmured, gaze darkening as he stepped closer. "But if you want peace you will give me what I want. If not I will obliterate your entire race and take you for myself, compliant or not. You have your choice." Every word of his darkened his demeanor until he cast a shadow over her so large she thought she'd never find the end of it, and terror roared as it began to devour her heart and her courage. She backed up away from him, her eyes wide, and he lashed out to grab her by the shoulder and pull her closer, the points of his talons biting her skin as it pushed past the fabric of her tunic.

"You have a great deal of pride in your assumptions of what your armies can do," she growled, trying to find her footing and her courage as quick as possible. Neither was easy on the ice floors of the palace she'd been brought. What was worse she had to clench her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering as he backed her up, taking long strides for every three or so of her own. "We're offering peace. A peace you need as badly as we do. Refuse and we'll rip your damn world apart. Even if it kills all of us."

"Or you can simply save them all. You, dear, little Aesir warrior," the king said, the harsh lines of his displeasure disappearing as his gaze burned through her. He took her chin in hand to keep her from moving further, arm viper-quick as the steel of his fingers kissed her skin none too pleasantly. Her eyes watered.

"Natasha," she bit out.

"Natasha," he hummed. "You can save them all. Save your king, your country. Simply stay with me." He didn't release her, craning her neck. Norns she wished he'd just snap it and be done with it. At least her death would justify the fighting that would follow.

Her mind moved quickly. "If I say yes-and I'm not agreeing right now-I'll not stay with you for longer than a month. I have a family-."

"No, you don't," he smirked and his grip tightened. She could feel the blood bead and drip down her skin as his thumb tip punctured the skin. Fuck. "You're an orphan with nothing to lose. Like me."

"You have everything to lose," she said, attempting to pull away as she tucked the information about his being an orphan deep down, but the cold had seeped her strength from her bones. "And I will take it all."

"One year," he argued. "One year and I will release you."

"Two months."

"One year."

"Six."

"Years?" He grinned.

"Months."

"A year," he repeated. "Or the death of your whole race. As you said, you'll die fighting if you must, and as you've seen my armies are not the cowering wretches you thought they would be." He leaned down to her, tipping her head to the side and drawing his tongue over the dribble of blood that had slowly rolled down her skin, lips and tongue surprisingly warm. Warm enough to make her shudder in something not even close to disgust.

A year. Four seasons, even more months, however many days, all of which she'd have to stay with this son of a bitch, the man who sought to destroy everything she'd ever held dear.

More than that, a year in which she could try to pay him back.

She focused her gaze as stoically as she could on his as he pulled away, wiping the blood from his lips with the back of his other hand. "Fine," she spat. "I'll do it."

He released her and grinned as he pulled back to once more run a hand through her hair. This time, rather than the disgust that was fast becoming second nature every time he so much as looked at her, a warming sensation started from her very scalp, flooding her whole body. The pain came with it, ragged and reminding her that she'd tugged too hard on her manacles when she'd been brought in, the skin chafed and likely near bloody from where she'd struggled. Pain she could deal with, though. His eyes on her the way they were now, though, she wasn't so sure.

He mistook her calculating gaze on his features as curiosity. "I couldn't very well have you freezing to death. That would make things so much less interesting," he said. "Now. You will attend your prince for the rest of the day. You are to explain to him the stipulations as I explain them to you. Your people are allowed one week more in my realm to bury their dead and have their funeral rites. After that any other Aesir remaining without having a reason will be considered a spy and punished as such. This evening you will return to me, and in two days your king and I will meet to formalize the treaty." He said all this very clearly, as though he'd had it planned for some time, and she gritted her teeth and clenched her fists to think that he'd expected her to agree to stay with him.

"Anything else?" She asked, body tense and eyes narrowed as she watched him. Rather than find it vexing it almost seemed to soften his features.

"Oh I do so look forward to our time together," he purred as he stepped even closer, one hand on her back to keep her from backing up too far. His breath was warm on her cheek and ear as his claws working to slip the key into the lock of the handcuffs, and it was all Nat could do not to shiver underneath him. The moment that the shackles were pulled off from her skin she backed away, rubbing her tender wrists and regarding him with a guarded expression. He simply smiled. "Be here tonight, and if you consider disappearing back to your shining citadel I'll bring it crashing down around your head. You've seen what my armies can do, imagine what would become of your precious Asgard if we were to move from our own lands and settle into yours."

She pushed at the visuals he was all but spoonfeeding her, turning to walk briskly down the grand hall towards where she'd been led in. She didn't run, wouldn't run from him even as her mind screamed at her to escape, and his echoing laugh haunted her no matter how far away she got.

* * *

She found both Thor and Odin waiting for her in the planning tent, the rest of the war council having dispersed to run the numbers and probability of continuing their campaign if Natasha's treaty with the king wasn't favorable. Thor's eyes lit up with an odd concoction of what looked like relief and fury when he saw her, and she thought the latter might be from the marks around her wrists and chin from his claws. She hoped, at least, that she hadn't displeased him in battle so much so that he was angry to see that she still lived.

Judging by how tightly he embraced her upon her return she doubted that very much.

"What did the monstrous queen want?" He demanded before Odin could say anything, the pair offering her a seat which she took with a gracious smile. She wasn't sure how much longer her knees could hold her up, especially not when the gravity of what she'd just signed off on came back to hit her hard like a blow to the back of the head. Oh Norns. What the hell had she done?

"Farbauti isn't the queen, whether she's dead or not I could not discern," she said, accepting the goblet of wine Thor pushed into her hands when her voice cracked. By the nine, she was a warrior she tried to remind herself as she drank deeply. She was better than this. "Loki sits on the throne. He's a runt, but the men are loyal to him. To a fault," she murmured. She'd not been able to see any signs of distrust or disloyalty in the guards that had brought her to see him, nor in those whom she passed on her way back out. At first she'd assumed they'd simply been angry to see an Aesir in their midst, but now, considering it? "He said they will fight until the end if it comes to it."

"Will he not seek peace?" Odin asked, his voice gruff as he sat opposite Natasha, trying to take in her less than expressive reaction to his question. She swallowed the rest of her wine, gulping down the hot beverage until she thought she might burn alive from the inside.

"He will. He wishes to open trade, as you offered, but more than that he asked . . . he asked for me to stay with him for a year. Nothing was said about after that," she realized with a sinking gut. Fuck. What if he expected her to stay with him as long as she wanted peace? Had she doomed herself to a life with him, as his whore or wartrophy, or whatever his deranged mind could think of? She had began to shake, but not from the cold. Thor, at her side, was of the same thought.

"No. You cannot agree to that," he said forcefully.

"I already have."

He gave a shout of displeasure, his fist hitting the table so hard that it splintered beneath him, while Odin seemed hardly phased by the revelation, his gaze fixed solely on Natasha.

"If I had not, my prince," Natasha said, reminding her once lover of the presence of their king, his father. If he let his emotions get the best of him then it would be bound to give away the secret she'd worked her hardest to keep that way. Secret. "He'd have slaughtered us all before we could consider a second option. He'd have sent you my head, or else kept me at the castle and sent me yours as a reminder of what I'd brought you all to. It's better this way." She said, trying to convince herself of the same. "Cleaner. He wishes to treaty with you, Allfather, in two days time," she said as she looked at him. "And offered the rest of this week in order to bury and pay homage to our dead and see that our wounded were healed."

"And you?" Odin asked.

"I go back there this evening," she said, not proud of the way her voice shook at the end. Thor barely looked at her, his back turned to the both of them. As if that really helped to make her feel better. Was he so disgusted at what she'd done that he couldn't stand the sight of her? Then at least he wouldn't have long to suffer.

"Father, let us hit him now," Thor insisted.

"Silence."

"I will not stand for this!" Thor bellowed as he whirled on his father and sovereign, face red as his cape in his fury.

"Then I will bring you to your knees and drag you to Asgard if I must," Odin shouted, just as loudly, making Natasha wince. She'd never seen her king like this. "Natasha has made her choice and we can do nothing but stand by and support her. Will you belittle her sacrifice in getting yourself and others killed?" He demanded, standing to stare off against his son. "Your blood is too hot and your head too large for your shoulders. Our information was faulty and these are not the weak Jotuns, eager to throw off the yoke of their terrible queen that we had been led to believe they were. This was to be an easy conquest, Thor, and instead we have taken great losses because of your ignorance and ego. You will not dishonor Natasha's choice by continuing your poor choices. Understood?"

The silence was so thick Natasha thought she might choke on it, watching the two men hate one another in front of her face. Norns, so this was the rage that she'd been warned of when she was young. Above she heard the clouds rumble, the storm a clear sign of Thor's displeasure, but any time the weather had made to rain they'd gotten snow or sleet, the rain freezing their bones as it combined with the harsh winds of the terrain. She prayed that he wouldn't fall victim to his own power and bring the storms back.

"I am asking you, Thor Odinson if you understand the issues laid down for you by your king," Odin barked once more, and Thor's gaze darkened.

"Yes. Allfather, I understand," he gritted out before whirling away. Natasha winced as she heard the thunder rumble and saw the unforgiving strike of lightning as it touched down elsewhere. It was only a matter of time until the rest followed, and once he was gone she rested her forehead on the table, hands fisting on her knees as she struggled to keep herself together.

Odin's hand reached out to grasp her shoulder and squeezed it gently. "I appreciate your sacrifice for our cause, Lady Natasha," he said and she sat up straight as he spoke with her. "You may go. I will see this princeling in two days and will ensure that you are returned to us after the year is completed," he said. "Along with that you will receive full honors upon your return to Asgard."

She dipped her head in gratitude, that being about as much as she could consider showing at the moment, and he dismissed her to allow her to rest afterwards. She took a detour, finding Thor raging in his tent, the other warriors having abandoned him to his fury as the snow had begun to fall. Again. She cleared her throat as she stepped through the entrance, ignoring his personal guards' warnings about his mood. As if she couldn't see it.

He turned at the sound and the rage drained from his face. "It should be me staying behind. Not you." He said simply, crossing towards her and catching both sides of her face in his hands. "It was my decision to invade here in the first place. They weren't supposed to be this well prepared-I thought, at first, the first army-."

"That was Helbindi's," she murmured. "I think Loki was waiting for us to pick him off. Thor, the information, there's no way that that could have been truthful. We were led here for this reason." She said. "And the king. Loki. He knows it. I'm going to try and find who the informant was, and if you can, give them Hel from me." She said. He smiled as he stroked the side of her face, leaning in to kiss her. She allowed it, but didn't encourage it any further than that, even as he pulled her close to him. She shook her head and pulled away with some difficulty.

"Don't. Don't make this more difficult than it already is," she begged, voice raw. "Please don't. You'll be married by the time I get back and I don't-."

"Natasha, I love you," Thor said, and the rumbling that had intensified above them broke. "I need you. I don't care about the woman my father set me up with, I want you, and when you come back I want to be with you. Please," he begged, kissing her hard again. She melted against him, going limp in his arms as he carried her back to his bed. She'd done her damndest to make sure that none of the other soldiers had known about she and Thor, though their flirtations went back for as long as she could even remember, but she'd gotten to her position as lieutenant in the army of her own merit, not because of Thor playing favorites and she'd be damned if any of her credentials were questioned.

Now? Hel, she wasn't sure if she'd end up ever seeing him again, no matter how confident the other two were that she'd be returned to Asgard when the year was up. She was going to take the small pleasures afforded her while she still could.

* * *

That evening, as required of her, she returned to Loki's castle, her head held high, body sporting far more bruises than she had when she'd first been there in far less obvious places. If Loki did have perversions of his own on his mind then he'd see that she was already claimed, and . . . well, she could only hope it wouldn't redouble his efforts to take her for his own.

Granted that left her open for a great deal more problems, such as how he might take it out on her if he thought her spoiled goods, but she really didn't want to think about that right then. The king met her in the great hall, where his men were feasting and celebrating their victory, the atmosphere far more positive than Natasha thought she could stomach, even when the noise and cheers went silent as she entered. Loki's eyes shone with amusement as he beckoned her closer, and she followed with her chin up, not looking any of the other creatures in the eye. One of them reached out to grab at her backside, perhaps thinking her a toy to be tossed around to his men, and she snarled before driving a dagger into the man's wrist.

Loki laughed.

"You ought not to provoke her, Petyr," he teased as the Jotun howled, ripping the blade covered in blue blood out and tossing it to the ground, while the others snorted and teased him for being bested by an Aesir. The mood lightened, to Natasha's great surprise, though every muscle in her body was still tense as all get out as she strode towards the king. There was no seat by his side, and she bit the inside of her cheek as she tried not to feel sick at the idea of kneeling beside him at the table.

Instead he offered her his lap. She thought she'd rather take the floor, and was about to say such when he tugged her down onto it either way, firmly planting here there.

Piss.

She didn't dare relax, even as the king beneath her lounged back in his seat, drinking hot spiced wine and offering her pieces of spiced ox from his fingertips. When she first refused he'd dragged the same claws down her spine, beginning to shred the back of the clean shift she'd chosen after she and Thor had coupled.

"Refuse me again and I'll make a great deal of taking you for myself in front of everyone," he purred into her ear.

Her teeth hit the metal talons as she accepted the food past her lips, cheeks heating up at the appraising nature of his stare, and wished herself anywhere but there. Anywhere.

Save, perhaps, what awaited her after the king decided he was tired. She had been dozing off and practically falling asleep on his lap for the past hour or so, the Jotuns staying up far later than she'd intended, and though she'd been given wine from Loki's goblet it had done little to make her any more lively. So when he'd stood her up and proclaimed that he was going to bed, and taken her wrist in his own to the hooting and hollering of his men, she'd barely had the energy to raise her head at it, eyes drooping as he tugged her along.

The room she was led to was lavishly furnished, an enormous featherbed standing near the opposite side of the door covered in furs and pillows, and the space itself was lit by odd sconces on the walls that let off a strange green hue, changing the ice into the same color. An archway led into what would be the bathroom, she assumed, and trunks held books and clothes and maps.

She blamed it on the wine that it took her so long to grasp just where she would be staying, and by that time Loki had aleady shrugged his enormous coat from his shoulders. Though it took away some of his bulk his frame was still impressive, body well sculpted Nat hated to admit, and though nowhere near as wide as Thor's he still radiated a sort of subtle power.

Again, she blamed the wine for the way her thoughts were turning as she wrapped her arms around her waist while he stripped, unabashed to show her his naked form. She hated him for it, especially when he turned to her as though expecting the same thing.

"I sleep with my clothes on." She muttered.

"Really? Then how does Thor get to you if you remain covered up each night?" He snarked, stepping closer and bringing his fingers to the ties of her trousers. She tried to push his hands away, opening her mouth to tell him his information was wrong, and he stopped her fingers where they met the laces. "You do it or I will," he said, not interested in her false modesty. "I'll not have you hidden from me. You're mine for the year," he murmured, leaning closer to murmur the words in her ear, worrying at her earlobe with his teeth.

As if she'd ever forget it. Fingers sloppy and slow, she stripped herself down and turned away from him as she stepped towards the bed and promptly dove into it, covering herself up with one of the white furs left there. His quiet laugh echoed in her ears along with her furious heartbeat as he crawled into bed beside her and tugged her closer. One of his arms wrapped around her midsection and pulled her back against his chest, his skin cool enough to make her shiver, goosebumps covering her skin as the rest of her body went rigid. He wished her a good night with a soft kiss planted at the base of her neck before falling into a light sleep himself, Nat following slowly after, the emotional and physical exhaustion coupled with the liquor making it impossible to keep from molding her body against his as she relaxed, or at least she told herself that.

'_Tomorrow, I'll kill him,'_ she swore before everything else faded out.

* * *

A/N: And so begins the second alternate universe! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, there'll be at least two more for this particular AU, and for those of us who're more visual, please look up Avali's rendition of Jotun Loki "Because I Was Born To Rule." I'm attempting to convey just how breathtaking that version of him as a Jotun King is, but I seriously don't think there are words to justify it, or at least if there are then I don't know them.

Either way-thanks again, and hope you enjoyed!


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